


Under the Weather

by watanukitty



Series: Family Business [8]
Category: Maleficent (2014), Maleficent (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 16:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21102374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watanukitty/pseuds/watanukitty
Summary: She remembers being sick before but it’s never quite like this and she hates it.





	Under the Weather

**Author's Note:**

> For Maleval week day 4: sick day/cooking for each other, plus another prompt: flu. Originally posted on Tumblr.

Her head starts throbbing as soon as she wakes up. She pushes off the duvet and reaches for the clock on the bedside table to turn off her morning alarm. The beeping is making her headache worse.

The left side of the bed has already been made. He wasn’t a morning person by nature, but tending to her and Aurora over the years has urged Diaval to be an early riser, and even during the days when he doesn’t really need to, the habit stuck. He’s probably already downstairs, cooking up one of his breakfast concoctions.

Mallory’s stomach does a painful lurch at the thought of food. Reluctantly she rises from the bed and hobbles over to the bathroom to start getting ready.

Her vision begins to swim.

She opens the tap and grabs her toothbrush, fighting back a sudden wave of nausea as she begins to brush her teeth. She hears footsteps from outside, followed by a soft rapping on the bathroom door.

“Mal?” It’s Diaval. “Breakfast’s ready.”

“Yeah,” she calls back, her voice sounding oddly hoarse even to her ears. “I’ll be right there.”

——

Diaval’s face contorts into a worried expression as soon as she enters the kitchen. “Are you alright?” he asks, his eyes scanning her form up and down.

“I think I caught something,” Mallory answers, pulling out a stool from under the kitchen isle and taking a seat. She still doesn’t have the energy to continue with her daily routine. Breakfast might just be the trick, if her fiancé has anything to say about it. He never lets her skip this particular meal.

Diaval tuts and walks over to her, pressing the back of his hand against her forehead. “Your temperature seems normal,” he tells her, his hands now traveling down to cup her face and touch the nape of her neck. “Could be the beginnings of a flu, though.”

“I think it might be a stomach bug,” she says, closing her eyes as another bout of dizziness comes over her. She remembers being sick before but it’s never quite like this and she _hates_ it. It’s been bothering her for a while, too. Whatever it is, it must have decided that today must be a good day to hit her with full force.

Great.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go to work today,” Diaval suggests, grabbing two plates from the table and transferring what looks to be scrambled eggs onto them. “We handled most of the tricky stuff last week. I can go over the contracts and the paper work. It’s no big deal,” he continues as he arranges some toast on their plates.

Mallory places an elbow on the table and hides her face in her hand. “Alright,” she mumbles after a moment. “I might just sit this one out.”

Diaval almost drops the glass of orange juice that he’s holding. “Jesus,” he breathes disbelievingly. “You _are_ sick.” He recalls numerous incidents of them arguing about situations like this and him having had to use brute force to get her to stay and rest. This thing that hit her is certainly not playing around.

He finishes loading the plates and slides one in front of her. “Here,” he hands her a fork. “Eat. You’ll feel much better, promise.”

She uncovers her face and peers down at the food, and instantly scrunches her nose at the smell coming from it. “What—what is that?” She eyes the plate warily.

“Uh, sausages? I don’t know where from exactly but Robin said they were really good so—”

Diaval didn’t get to finish. Mallory puts a hand over her mouth and hurriedly scrambles for the washroom. He doesn’t wait a moment longer and immediately runs after her, arriving just in time to hold back her hair as she retches over the toilet. He pulls her against his chest when it’s all over and rubs her back. She pants and wipes her mouth with a towel that he handed to her.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” he asks softly. Surely she’s been sensing something was wrong.

“A couple of weeks? Mostly it’s just headaches. I didn’t think it was something out of the ordinary.”

Diaval nods. It’s nothing new to him for her to ignore warning signs like that until they develop into something worse. Hell, he does that too, from time to time. She’s just much more hard-headed than he is. He pulls her to her feet and guides to her to their bedroom. “Okay. Go back to sleep. I’ll just drop by at the office and get the papers. I’ll stay with you all day. And maybe you should go see a doctor…”

Mallory breaks off his touch at that and gives him a glare. “No.” She hates going to doctors.

“Mal,” he sighs, pulling her into his arms again. “This could be serious…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffs. “I’ll be fine by tomorrow. Maybe even by this afternoon.”

It’s his turn to glare. “Mallory. Just be a good fiancée and listen to me, okay? Rest and—”

“No doctors, Diaval.” she snarls

“Fine,” he grunts. He’ll settle with a compromise, for now. “But you will stay in bed all day.”

“Fine,” she acquiesces with a roll of her eyes. They get to their room and she climbs into the bed without protest. He drapes the blankets over her and kisses the top of her head. “Sleep. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Don’t take long,” she whispers, bringing her hand up to settle on the side of his face. Diaval’s heart sinks as he watches her, looking so small and vulnerable in her sickly state.

“I won’t,” he promises, and gives her a peck on the lips. Satisfied with his answer, Mallory turns to her side, and starts falling asleep. Diaval smooths back her hair and observes her for a few more minutes. He then stands up, closes the curtains on the windows, and leaves.

——-

She doesn’t improve much the following day, but neither Diaval nor Aurora could keep her from going back to work.

“Good luck,” was all Aurora said before leaving for school. “And make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.”

Diaval sighs. He assured his goddaughter that he’d be extra watchful of her godmother, but they both know that that wasn’t going to be easy. He and Mallory already had a heated argument this morning about him being too worrisome and her not taking care of herself more, and he’s sure that won’t be the last of that discussion. She is such a stubborn, stubborn woman.

But dammit, he loves her anyway.

At the same time, an idea keeps nagging him, pulling at him from the back of his mind. He doesn’t even know if it’s a valid thought, but if his estimations and observations are correct then…

He has to make sure first.

They make it back home at half past five. Aurora already called in, saying that cheer practice will run later than usual. That gives him plenty of time to confirm his theory without the girl causing any unwanted ruckus with her endless bounds of excitement and energy.

“Love?” He calls to Mallory when they enter their bedroom. “Why don’t you try this?” he takes out a box from his bag and holds it out for her to take.

She turns to look at him and then at the object in hand, her expression transforming into that of bewilderment. “You can’t be serious.”

“Won’t hurt,” he says, and pushes the box into her hands. “And besides, since when did you last have your period?” he asks her testily, staring straight into her eyes. She freezes.

She begins to open the box. “Fine. But if it’s a false alarm you’ll be the one to attend Beastie’s PTA meeting next week.”

“Ugh. Alright. Just try it now, will you?”

Mallory narrows her eyes at him. She steps towards him and ruffles his hair in spite, and disappears into their bathroom, box in hand, before he could catch her.

He laughs under his breath as he watches her go, and tries not to let his nerves get to him.

——

It’s the longest three minutes of his life.

He stares at the little white plastic stick that she left on the vanity while she goes about and changes into more comfortable clothing as if nothing’s amiss. Diaval runs his hands repeatedly down his face and through his hair, not taking his eyes off the object. Finally the timer included in the kit goes off.

He stands up to get to the test, but Mallory gets to it first. She gives him a brief glance of challenge as if to assert that he’s been wrong all this time, before finally directing her eyes to the object she’s holding. He’d have rolled his eyes in response, but then he sees her eyes widen and her jaw go slack.

“What?” he prods, his heart rising to his throat. She slowly sits back down on her vanity’s matching stool and stifles a gasp with her other hand. Her eyes are glistening when she looks up at him.

“Mal?” Diaval tries, reaching out at she hands the stick to him. He takes one look at it and suddenly the air leaves his lungs, making him grasp for support lest his legs suddenly give way.

On the test, two lines stare back at him.

———

“Promise we’ll tell Rory after this?” He asks, holding her hand as she adjusts herself on the examination bed.

“Yes,” she answers, smiling. “Because we’ll have to see if all is well first. Can’t hold back anymore, can you?”

“No,” Diaval answers sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck. “She’ll freak out though.” He frowns. He might have to hold her back from tackling Mallory once they give out the big news.

“No doubt about that,” Mallory says with a laugh. He smiles down at her and bends to give her a kiss, his right hand going down to rest on her still flat belly. They both look up as the door opens, and they grin widely as the doctor enters.

“Good morning, you two,” Dr. Sweet greets them, his eyes twinkling. “I must say, Mal, your call gave us quite a surprise,” he tells them, only to be rewarded with a chuckle.

“Believe me, this all came as a surprise to us too,” Mallory replies and turns to her fiancé with a meaningful look. Diaval only shook his head.

“Alright,” Dr. Sweet says, checking over Mallory’s chart. “Let’s go and take a look.”

He turns on the machine and monitor beside Mallory’s bed and goes to prepare the things needed for exam. She inhales sharply and squeezes Diaval’s hand to alleviate the discomfort of the cold gel and the instrument going into her. A few seconds pass and an image appears on the monitor.

Diaval squints and cocks his head. “Uh, what am I looking at?”

“Those are the uterine walls,” Dr. Sweet explains, pointing at the screen. “And your baby should be right…” he presses a few buttons on the machine. “Here.” He pauses, and peers closely at the monitor. “Well would you look at that!” he exclaims.

“What?” Mallory and Diaval ask in unison.

“Congratulations, ” Dr. Sweet says. “You’re having twins!”

Mallory is at a loss for words. She brings her hand up to her mouth, still not quite believing what she just heard. First she learns she’s expecting and now this. Her other hand fumbles for Diaval’s, and then she hears a loud thud.

Her head whips in the direction of the sound. Beside her Diaval is missing, causing her to look around the room and, not finding him, making  
her lean over the bed.

There, on the floor, Mallory spots Diaval, sprawled, out cold, and apparently too overwhelmed by the shock.

**Author's Note:**

> saw the new movie and now i have ALL the feels. also i'm uploading all my fics from tumblr onto here.


End file.
